


We Rebuild Inside, Then Out

by Hot_Trickster



Category: Tron (Movies)
Genre: Eventual Relationships, Eventual Romance, Eventual circuit play, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-22
Updated: 2020-02-09
Packaged: 2021-02-27 11:54:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 10,956
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22356745
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hot_Trickster/pseuds/Hot_Trickster
Summary: You need to rebuild yourself before you can rebuild a world. Sam has to help Tron remember how to trust and forgive before they can make the Grid what it was always supposed to be. Slowly progressing Tron/Sam.
Relationships: Sam Flynn/Tron, Tron/Sam Flynn
Comments: 12
Kudos: 72





	1. The Champion

The circuits that race up and down the programs suit are a firework riot of flickering orange and white lights when Sam finds him.

After a week of searching, the User almost gave up. Quorra hadn't been as believing in the old programs survival rates, saying the Sea of Simulation had no doubt swallowed him up or he'd been derezzed along with Clu and Flynn. She wasn't unkind, just matter of fact and sympathetic. But Sam had been stubbornly optimistic.

But finding a barely lit mess that was both Rinzler and Tron all at once made Sam wonder what he could do for his fathers once upon a time best friend. That self-doubt was a taunt though, growing in Sam's belly until it became a challenge to himself as he dragged the program out of the sea's shallows and onto the craggy shore to crouch beside the unresponsive body.

"How do I fix a program corrupted twenty years ago, huh?" He wondered out loud, looking down at his helmeted patient.

Rolling the program onto his side, Sam detached the identity disk and activated it, letting the code stream up and out like modern art in computer code, the DNA that made up each program. It should have been Alan's clean cut code and data and most it was still there, intact. But the hack job done to the programs original code made Sam want to wretch. It was less a reprogramming and more like a hostile take over. It was a miracle Tron managed to break through Rinzler even for those few minutes to save them all.

Letting the disk sit on Tron's chest, the code lit up the User's face, reflecting in his eyes. Only then did Sam sigh heavily.

"Here goes."

It took hours that Sam could count and then he simply lost track of time all together as he slowly, carefully picked the entwined lines of code apart and tossed away the trash that had morphed the Grids champion into Clu's vicious lapdog. Sam saved what he could of Tron's original code, but some still had to be rewritten from what he'd studied from Alan's original work. Other times, Sam just had to wing it.

The behavioral department was easy to clean up, but it was Tron's memory data that made Sam pause. It was layers upon layer of blue code with orange so tightly wound around it that removing it would change who Tron was too completely. As much as Sam wanted to save the program that had been his childhood hero for the past twenty years, he wasn't about to play God. Even to save Tron from his memories.

By the time Sam finished his legs ached from kneeling on the hard ground, his skin cold from Tron's wet upper body resting against his thighs. Only after he closes the disk down do Sam's fingers move from the pulse point he'd found just under the rim of the programs helmet, the steady beat had kept Sam company through his work. But now was the moment of truth. Sliding out from under the program, Sam reattached the disk and watched with a mixture of anticipation and apprehension as the new code uploaded.

When the last kilobyte finally settled in, the program arched, a rasping gasp reverberating through the helmet still in place. Sam moved forward quickly, putting a hand out to reassure as he'd done when Quorra rebooted. But the moment his hand touched the programs suit it lit up bright enough to make Sam squint and shield his eyes. When his vision adjusted it was very clear that something was wrong. One half of Tron's bodysuit was a blinding white, the other half a molten orange.

Sam leaned forward to get a closer look, but there was no time when a hand fisted painfully in his short hair and dragged him directly towards the blurring, blinding path of an activated light disk. A murderous pair of eyes , one orange, the other white blue glared at Sam with clear intent to end the User in his grip. And with alarming clarity, Sam realized he hadn't named this almost composite program. What did you call a new collection of data who'd been to hell and back but still managed to help save the world?

"Tron!" Sam shouted, eyes slamming shut tight as he waited for the pain that would end him.

A few heartbeats later he could hear the disk just under his chin, but no pain followed. In fact, nothing happened and only after Sam relearned the art of breathing did he manage to crack one eye open and then the other when he saw the look of shock and disbelief on Tron's face.

"…Sam?"

The voice was rough with disuse, but it was still familiar in an eerie way. In fact, Tron looked and sounded so much like Alan the first time Sam showed up with a broken arm and a sloppy grin that it was suddenly very awkward rather then alarming.

Sam let out a rush of air he never remembered holding in. "Yeah, hi." He said with a weak grin.

How Tron knew his name was a mystery. Either it was memories from his time as Rinzler or his dad had been really chatty about his real world life.

Either way it wasn't important when, as Sam watched, the orange slowly started to fade from Tron's eye and circuits. It was the same moment the security program realized he had an active light disk to the throat of Kevin Flynn's son. Tron pulled back like touching Sam burned, light disk deactivating as it hit the ground while the program stumbled to his feet. He didn't manage to maintain any semblance of balance for long.

Sam quickly shot up to his feet, two hands grasping Tron's upper arms before he could crumple to the ground and pressing his hip into the programs to keep his knees from buckling. When Tron tried to jerk back on instinct, Sam held tighter.

"Whoa! Take it easy. We're good, okay…Just, calm down for a second before you fry all the new wiring." He said with a forced little laugh, trying to assure the still discombobulated program.

Those glowing blue eyes looked at Sam wearily, but leaned against the support he was being given, hands grasping the User's shoulders to give off the illusion of balance regained. Sam didn't buy it and only loosened his grip rather than let go. Still, Tron straightened to his full height with Sam as his minor crutch and the younger Flynn felt the old childhood admiration for the program flicker to life.

"Clu?" Tron asked hesitantly and if not in his stance, Sam could hear the exhaustion in that voice.

"Gone…" Sam paused for a moment and those perceptive eyes narrowed but waited silently for the User to continue. "Dad too."

Tron exhaled heavily as his eyes slid shut, grip tighter on Sam's shoulders for a moment. All the grief the program was willing to show. It was more then Sam ever expected to see. "Flynn…" Tron shook his head. "Reintegration."

It wasn't a question. Sam nodded all the same.

A long silence followed and after a moment, Sam started to feel Tron's weight pressing down on him. Readjusting, he pulled a light cycle baton from the holster on his calf. Tron stared at it a moment.

"Think you can ride?" Sam asked with a raised brow. It sounded like a dare.

Tron gave a small snort and grabbed the baton, trying to take one confident stride forward and immediately crumpled with an undignified grunt.

Sam sighed and rolled his eyes before grabbing one of Tron's arms and slinging it over his shoulders to get the program back to his feet. Sam gave Tron a smug look.

"Happy now?"

Tron looked at him sidelong. "Yes."

Sam laughed, taking the baton from Tron. "Good. But if you tip us over I'm leaving your outdated ass behind."

It got the response Sam was looking for when Tron gave a small growl and a small twitch of his mouth betrayed a restrained smile. "I'll show you outdated, Flynn." One step later, the security program winced. "Later."

Sam just shook his head and chuckled. "I think we're gonna get along just fine."

What the User tried not to focus on was the thin veins of orange buried here and there in the blue circuits.


	2. The Arcade

"For being so freakin' compact you weigh a ton." Sam grunted as he half dragged, half carried Tron's unconscious body inside the Grid copy of Flynn's arcade. It was a small favor that no one seemed to run or even visit the place, especially considering his cargo.

Having rebooted the program's system there was still a lot of information for Tron to process, so a few glitches were expected. Hell, Sam figured if someone filled him up with a new mass of information and code with the force of an adrenaline shot to the heart, he'd be conked out too. 

Of course, that didn't mean Sam had been all that sympathetic when Tron decided to play possum on him during the trip, forcing the User to barely keep them on the light cycle when the perfectly harmonized motion they'd managed to work out was suddenly thrown off balance by Tron going slack against him. Sam barely got them to Flynn's in an odd jumble of limbs and circuits. Circuits that flared upon contact and made Sam's skin itch under his suit like they'd created a constant loop of energy without an outlet. It made Sam's blood buzz like he'd just jumped off Encom tower all over again, even after dumping Tron unceremoniously on the curved couch upstairs. The feeling thankfully dissipated quickly when Sam noticed something about Tron's suit. The orange veins that had been nagging at the back of Sam's brain the whole trip there…were gone. Leaving Tron's suit a healthy, unblemished blue.

Sam canted his head to the side in bewilderment. "Huh."

Crouching down, he let the ungloved bits of his hand hover just over Tron's mouth and nose, satisfied when he felt a warm rush of air exhaled against his skin. Two fingers to the program's pulse gave Sam a steady heartbeat. That only left one thing to check.

"Okay, lets have one more look under the hood." Sam murmured to himself, mostly to break the unnerving silence as he turned Tron onto his side to access the program's disk.

Last thing he was expecting was a hand that was capable of throwing light disks like it was a fine, deadly art to suddenly swat his hand away, making Sam practically jump out of his skin.

But when Sam landed on his ass in surprise, Tron simply let out a groggy mutter and rolled onto his side, showing Sam his back as he made himself comfortable.

Okay, so programs slept. Who knew? Or was it more considered hibernation? Either way it was a relief (even if Sam could still hear the blood pounding in his ears) to know it was something so simple as exhaustion rather then Sam's faulty programming skills. Then Tron made an odd noise that caught the User's attention.

Sam nearly lost it a second later when the sound was identified. Because the fearless champion of the Grid, the ex-deadly enforcer known as Rinzler…was purring like a content cat against the couch cushions. Sam had to slap a hand over his own mouth until the urge to burst out laughing subsided. An action that probably helped him live that much longer in Tron's presence.

Really though, it was a relief to see the program relaxed. Standing up, Sam could only smile faintly at the guy before nodding.

"Get some rest, man. You deserve it."

Sam decided to give the program some privacy. Walking down to the arcade level, the User shook his head with a sigh. "And I really need to stop talking to myself."

Thankfully, the solution to his sad obsession with self communication was only a call away as Sam found an eerie calm in the wash of Grid lights mixed with the familiar glow of an old arcade screen.

She picked up on the second ring.

"…Cutting it a little close today, Sam. Finally pulled your head out of whatever masterpiece you're building today? Cause I'm starving..." Quorra replied, her voice a garbled mess over the line. But having just worked out a way to communicate from either side of the laser meant fine tuning it was a ways off.

"Looks like you're gonna have eat without me tonight." Sam threw out there, rather casually. But he pretty much knew the response he'd get.

"…Sam….whatever you've got your head wrapped around can wait till tomorrow. You said we'd try Chinese tonight…"

Sam had to smile. Even through the messy feed, he could still hear the disappointment in her voice, practically see the childish pout that would accompany it. But Sam would have to be dumb as dirt to miss the concern there too.

"I know. But this is," he looked up at the office. "Really important, okay? I'll make it up to you, but I need another day at least inside. That's what, another half hour tops for you?"

"…Sam, the Chinese place closes in ten minutes! I'm tired of cheeseburger and Marv…"

"Quorra. I found him." Sam cut in.

For a moment there was silence, nothing but the crackle of feedback to fill the space.

"…is he…?"

Sam let out a sigh at the unspoken question. "Not as bad as we expected. I found him washed up on the shore. I had to play operation with his code, rewrite some of it. Had a hairy couple of minutes there, but it's definitely Tron in control now. I just need time to get him 100% ."

The plea in his voice was clear and he heard Quorra make a noise of disapproval for Sam using it on her. He only had to wait a couple of heartbeats before Quorra sighed.

"…Eight hours…" She proposed.

"Twelve." Sam shot back.

"…Ten…" The ISO responded firmly, leaving no room for argument. But Sam still had to smile triumphantly with the two extra hours he'd gained . "…And you better be at that portal when it reopens. Don't be reckless and make me come in after you, Sam Flynn…" She warned. "...I'm not happy when I'm left hungry..."

Sam chuckled. "Deal. Get Marv and me a cheeseburger and I'll throw in some of those cream puffs from the pastry shop when I get back." He promised. The delighted squeak he got in response was agreement enough for him before ending the transmission.

Exhaling slowly, Sam looked up at the office, but there was no sign of movement. Tron was still out then. That left Sam with a few hours to kill until the program was ready to rejoin the land of the living.

So he took his time inspecting the arcade, thinking maybe his dad had created some new games in an attempt to offer some tailored fun for any of the programs who might have filled the place up at one time. But looking around, all he saw were Galaga and Pac Man machines. Every quarter arcade game Sam could have named from his own childhood crowded around him like old friends. They even sat in the same slots as the arcade back home and it made Sam feel nostalgic. So he sought it out.

It didn't take Sam long, being the one game he and his dad played continuously together. The one game Sam had spent hours and hours trying to beat the older Flynn at. And there it was, sitting in all it's glory a little aways. Separated from the other games. A proud place of honor with it's name scrawled in neon lights on the wall above the console. Tron.

It was ironically amusing really. Even after experiencing the real, blood pounding thing Sam's fingers still itched to get around the joystick and see if that real world experience could get him that high score he'd always coveted.

Sam only got a single step towards the console before his head whipped around at a raw scream that tore through the quiet hums and beeps of old gaming machines.

A/N: Reviews are love and help feed the plot bunnies.


	3. Nightmares

Sam took those steps three at a time, muscles tensing at the strain. Tron's screaming was consistent enough that he didn't feel it though, not if it got him upstairs faster.

The sight in the office stopped Sam in his tracks for a few horrible seconds.

Tron was convulsing on the couch, his body language of one reliving the memory of being restrained, arms locked at his sides as the program thrashed and grit his teeth with valiant grunts between the screams. If that wasn't enough to throw Sam for a loop, the orange that was sliding down over the clean blue circuits like fresh flowing blood threw the User into action and across the room to Tron.

"Tron, come on man, I need you to wake up!" Grabbing Tron's shoulders, he shook the program hard. "Tron!"

Thankfully blue eyes snapped open. Sam had learned from the last time and latched onto the programs wrists before they were able to go for a light disk or his face. "It's Sam, Sam Flynn. It's okay, you're okay." Sam said quickly, seeing the look of fear in the programs eyes before they slowly faded into recognition.

"Flynn?" The program croaked, sounding unsure of himself, arms tense in Sam's grip.

"Yeah…" Sam let out with a sigh of relief and a tired smile. He looked down at the wrists he had in a vice grip. "You gonna be okay if I let you loose?"

Tron looked unsure at that, seemed to think it over and finally nodded. Sam let go the instant he got the confirmation. He backed out of the programs space, sitting on the end of couch by Tron's feet as the program seemed to take stock of himself and sit up.

The orange was starting to fade back to blue, but not before Tron saw it infecting his circuits. Sam watched the somewhat familiar features shutter into hard resignation.

Tron stood slowly.

"Hey, don't really think you're ready to be moving around," Sam argued as he stood as well, moving to try and guide the program back to the couch. But Tron pulled his arm free quickly and moved across the room to put distance between them.

"You shouldn't be near me, Sam Flynn," Tron said flatly, touching the space around his own circuits which were no longer anything but blue. "Clu might be gone, but his reprogramming is still present. I'm a danger to you."

Sam felt something fall heavy in his gut at what Tron was implying. "I did my best fixing your code, but I didn't want to erase anything that was you by accident." The pleading in his voice was young. This was his childhood hero, the last link to his dad that Sam had. He needed as much as wanted to help Tron be himself again. "I can try again, see if I can find what's causing the issues," he offered.

Tron must have heard plea in his voice because the old security program looked torn with what his programming dictated for Sam's safety and what the User was asking of him.

I fight for the Users

Tron shook his head. "Clu spent thousands of cycles in my code, Sam Flynn. What makes you think one day will fix it all?"

"I don't think this a quick fix." It was a hope and Sam clung to it. "You already started breaking through it before Clu was even gone. Yeah, I didn't remove all of it, a lot of it's woven into your main code, your memory. The patch job I did at first was to get you moving, but give me some time. I can fix what Clu did to you."

Whether it was the conviction in Sam's voice or if Tron was maybe still too physically weak to ignore the assist, the program finally nodded. But he didn't look happy about it.

Sam, on the other hand, let out a sigh of relief and sat on the couch again, gesturing for Tron to sit. "Look, we can start now. But I gotta say, we should do this slowly, in phases. I'm gonna want you to upload small burst of new code to see how it takes before we move forward." Sam wasn't about to botch this by being hasty.

Tron's eyes narrowed in unease, but after a moment, he moved forward and sat a fair distance from Sam. It took Tron another second or two to finally reach back and pull the disc free from his back and finally offer it to the User.

Sam treated the gesture with all the respect it deserved. This was all that Tron was. And while Sam had taken the necessary liberties while the program was out cold, he knew how hard it must have been for Tron to hand it over willingly.

The silence was tense and Sam forced himself to exhale before he brought the code up in a brilliant blue globe. He more felt than saw Tron move closer to look as Sam spun the globe and tried to find more of the damaged code he'd decided not to touch before.

"I cleaned up most of the large damage I found, most of what made you Rinzler," Sam said as he magnified a section where a chunk of orange code sat. He went to pluck it free like he'd seen his father do to Quorra's code, but he paused. He turned to look at Tron who's face was close now, illuminated by his own code.

"You okay with watching me play surgery with your code?" Sam asked curiously.

Tron inhaled sharply and nodded, never taking his eyes off the damaged code in question. "Do what has to be done, Sam Flynn."

Sam took that as the green light and started the careful procedure. It only looked simple what his hands did, but Sam had to focus. Just like before, he had to maintain whatever looked like the original, uncorrupted data of Tron's base code. Every day he thanked his pre-planning for this trip since he'd sweet talked Alan into letting him have access to his original program code for Tron. Anything that looked like upgrades by his father, Sam left.

There were obedience coding to destroy. A lot of Tron's own code had been behind a wall of new personality and protocol code that Clu had created to be Rinzler. It took time and Sam only stopped when he felt a hand on his arm.

"Sam Flynn," Tron said finally. "You have been at this for some time. Perhaps it's time we uploaded to my system as you'd suggested."

Sam blinked away the specs behind his eyes from staring at the glowing code for too long and focused on Tron. "Uh...yeah, probably should." He closed down the disc and handed it back to Tron. "And maybe since I've been elbow deep in your code, you can just call me Sam," he offered with a tired smile.

A small smirk formed at the corner of Tron's mouth. "As you like,Sam..." Taking the disc, Tron moved back on the couch to create distance again before he seemingly built up the courage to reattach his disc.

There was a click, Tron gasped and suddenly pitched forward. Tron's eyes and circuits flared white hot for a second and Sam moved forward to catch the slumping program.

"Whoa, I got you," Sam eased, but his eyes were locked on Tron's circuits. Circuits that were a clear white blue this time around. Tron had gripped Sam's upper arms in return to keep himself upright, forehead resting on the User's shoulder. Sam had to fight the urge to wrap Tron in a tight hug, but the relief was in his voice, "I think this time worked a lot better. How you feel?"

Tron squeezed Sam's upper arms for a moment before lifting his head. Hauntingly white blue eyes were very close when they met Sam's and the younger User had to swallow down a sudden twist in his gut at the proximity. The action figure he had as a kid didn't do the guy justice really. And the brilliant, toothy smile on the programs face made it so much worse on that old, teenage crush.

"I feel…" Tron's brow furrowed as he tried to name the feeling. "More me. More...just more," he finally finished, searching Sam's face then, those blue white eyes faded to a soft brown and they were gorgeously clear. "Thank you, Sam."

"Don't thank me yet," Sam advised, but that smile was infectious and he felt his mouth twist into one to match Tron's. "But hey, if it felt that good, imagine what's it's gonna be like when we get it all out of your system."

Tron let out a soft laugh and Sam really liked that sound. "You are absolutely Kevin's son," the program said warmly.

It was a cold splash of water on all those endorphins, but at least it seemed to effect both of them. The giddy warmth drained away, feeling the elephant in the room. Or, more correctly, the lack of Kevin Flynn in this happy moment.

Tron and Sam let go of each other and the User's smile turned sad. "Dad should have been doing this for you instead of me. He should be the one fixing the Grid." Sam shook his head in disbelief as he looked around the harsh blacks and whites of the Grid around them. "I barely know what I'm doing in here or out there running Encom. How'd he even do all this?"

"Sam…"

He turned to look at Tron. His eyes roamed over the smirk and odd abundance of affection in the programs eyes. "You're father was awful at everything when he first came to the Grid."

Sam couldn't help it, he laughed at that. God, it felt really good to laugh, especially here. It seemed to be Tron's intent by the warmth of his smile. It felt good to see the Tron his dad probably knew, the warrior he'd built up in his son's head.

"That's not how he told it," Sam chuckled.

Tron snorted. "Of course not. Master User that he was to everyone. Alan-One was my creator, so I had the benefit of knowing how badly Kevin handled his first light cycle race." But he smiled at Sam. "You were a much faster learner than he was."

Sam blinked at the praise. "You do remember kicking my ass at disc fighting, right?"

Brown eyes narrowed harshly at that. "If you mean do I remember almost killing you-"

"Whoa, no, no, Tron, come on!" Sam interrupted, waving his hands for the program to stop. "That wasn't you, y-"

"If you hadn't bled on the arena floor, I would have killed you." Tron snapped back harshly. And that tone reminded Sam so much of Alan at his most stern that it shut the User up for a second.

"But you didn't." It took Sam a few seconds to say, but he got it out. His eyes bore into Tron, but the program wasn't mad at Sam and they both knew that. "You stopped. And I'm here, alive. Okay?" Sam spread his arms out as if to prove his living presence. "So how bout we stop with the dramatic 'what ifs' and we get you a drink?"


	4. Lesson

Sam hadn’t really been too keen on remaking the End of Line club, so he hadn’t. No one was getting him on an elevator like that ever again. 

No, instead of some flashy club atop the city, Sam took Tron to a small place on the outskirts that the User had been frequenting himself. Though ‘frequent’ more meant Sam came in here to grab a quick glass of energy between rebuilding efforts. So finding a table nestled in the back corner for himself and Tron was a completely new experience. As was Tron’s tense body language as he quietly surveyed their surroundings. 

It wasn’t as if Tron was completely relaxed around Sam since the reboot, but this was new. Honestly it was concerning because it reminded Sam very much of Rinzler and the way the program held himself during Clu’s reign. The blank slate of an expression with a hint of menace on Tron’s face wasn’t helping either. It was enough that Sam dropped his eyes to the color of the program’s circuits, but thankfully those had not changed color. 

After a few minutes of extremely tense silence where not even the waitress had wanted to stay at their table longer than was necessary to get their order, Sam had enough. He leaned over the table and lowered his voice to a harsh whisper. “Do you maybe not want to look around like you’re ready to the derezz the first program who moves wrong?” 

Tron met his gaze for the first time since entering and the program’s lips thinned into a perfect, disapproving line. “Did you completely defrag and wipe the Grid after the reintegration?” He asked shortly. 

Sam’s brow furrowed, “No, I-”

“Then there is still a possibility of threat.” Tron cut off seriously, his eyes going back to scanning the crowd. 

Sam wanted to argue, he wanted to put Tron at ease. But the fact was, there was possible danger and Sam couldn’t argue that. There had been Clu loyalists, sure. But they were more whisper than physical threat. That doesn’t mean Sam hadn’t caught sight of orange circuits disappearing into the crowd here and there. It was one of the many reasons Sam had made sure to not announce his presence to the Grid. He had allies, but his enemies had so far been elusive. And not everyone wanted Users back on the Grid.

“There are still some of Clu’s followers around, but they haven’t approached me. I haven’t had any issues,” he said, hoping to reason with Tron, maybe get the guy to relax a little when the pitcher of blue liquid and glasses were dropped off hurriedly. 

It brought Tron’s gaze back to Sam, but it didn’t soften or ease his expression from before. “So you’ve been ignoring the issue instead of handling it.” It wasn’t a question and Sam was trying hard not to bristle, he really was. But he didn’t appreciate being treated like a kid either. 

“I’m doing my best here, man,” he shot back instead. 

It was odd that’s what made the program sigh and scrub at his face with one gloved hand. “Sam, you need to stop thinking because Clu is gone that the Grid is safe for you. I’m not sure if it’s in your core programming to be completely reckless, but I won’t let history repeat itself.” Sam saw it in Tron’s eyes, the pain. “I failed the Grid before. I won’t let it happen again. I won’t fail another Flynn.”

Understanding locked into place. Sam suddenly wished this conversation happened back at the arcade and not the corner of a bustling club where it would be weird to have a shouting match. Cause Sam wanted to yell at the program right now or at least shake him hard enough to knock some sense into the program. Instead he reigned that in and tried to proceed calmly. 

“Exactly what part of what you did was a failure, Tron?” He asked, voice tight. “You protected dad, you made it so he could get away from Clu, protecting the User. You fought he uprising Clu was creating. You did your best,” Sam argued. 

Tron was already shaking his head. “It wasn’t enough.”

“Clu knew you, he was dad’s creation. He knew how you worked. It wasn’t you failing as a security program. You didn’t even have a chance.”

But it was clear to how Tron went back to scanning the crowd that Sam’s words were not landing. It was frustrating. Sam wondered if he banged his head on the table a few times if that at least might hold the programs attention for a few extra minutes. 

Sam grit his teeth and focused instead on filling their glasses and pushing one over to Tron before draining his own. The last thing Sam needed was more energy but at least it was something to distract himself from what a stubborn ass the program across from him was. But hell, so was Sam. He didn’t know how to handle this kind of self doubt in someone else. 

A spark of color caught Sam’s attention at that point. It drew his eyes to the darkened corner on the other side of the club where a couple had taken over. At least he hoped they were a couple with the way they were touching each other. It wasn’t overtly sexual, sensual was probably the better word for it. Not like Sam hadn’t seen thousands of iterations like it in the real world. It was more the couples circuits that caught Sam’s attention and made his brow furrow in confusion. The way the man trailed his fingers over the woman’s blue circuits, how they flickered a starburst of purple where he touched. Even more so how her head threw back at the contact and color change. 

“What the hell?”

The confusion drew Tron’s attention to what had startled Sam. The security program gave a small snort at the sight and averted his eyes shortly after spotting the source of Sam’s curiosity. “They’re young,” Tron said by way of explanation. “No sense in them to do that in private.”

“Do what?” Sam asked in confusion, turning his attention to Tron then and the program looked like he was debating what to say next. 

“It’s not a publicly decent activity,” Tron said by way of explanation and understanding clicked for Sam. 

“Wait, hold up,” Sam held up his hands and cleared his thoughts. “Those two are having, what, program sex over there?”

Something like amusement flickered in the security program’s eyes and Tron actually chuckled. “Not exactly. Flynn called it second base.” Tron drained some of his glass while Sam tried to process this new, interesting information. “Circuit stimulation is...intense. But program and User sex is similar in ways.”

Sam quirked a brow. “Sounds like you’ve explained this before.”

Tron raised his own brow. “You’re not the first User who’s asked.”

There was an odd standstill as they looked at each other, daring the other to either push or retreat from the conversation. They were both incredibly stubborn. But Sam ended up looking away first, shifting a little as his eyes trailed to the couple again, more trailing fingers, longer trails of purple and sounds. 

“Stop staring, Sam,” Tron said flatly and the User let out a huff of annoyance. But when Sam glared at the program, he was back to scanning the club for invisible threats. 

Sam’s eyes fell down to the circuits in his own suit then. Curiosity got the better of him and Sam tried to nonchalantly run a finger down the one circuit running down the length of his own forearm. There was a soft hum upon contact, but no sensation, no color changing. 

A soft, rumbling laugh interrupted Sam’s confusion and his eyes snapped up to Tron who was watching him amusement again, having obviously seen Sam’s experiment. 

“Does it not work cause I’m a User?” Sam asked, trying to tamper down the flush of embarrassment for getting caught at it. 

“You can’t stimulate your own circuits,” Tron said by way of explanation. 

What happened next was incredibly fast as Tron reached across the table and barely flicked his gloved fingers over Sam’s forearm circuit. The blue rippled with purple sparks and Sam wasn’t ready for the lancing hot tremor of pleasure that shot through his arm and straight to his groin. It was brief but damn was it strong. 

Thank god he didn’t moan, but it was a near thing as Sam let out a small grunt and snatched his arm away from the table, shoulders pulling in on himself in surprise. He had to take a deep breath and steady himself before looking back to Tron who was watching him with a strange expression. Some odd mix of dark amusement wrapped in hard flint in those brown eyes. 

“Be careful who you let touch them, Sam. You’re not used to it and it will get you in trouble here.” 

Sam blinked at the program, he wouldn’t be surprised if his pupils were blown, but what Tron just said jarred him. “I’m sorry, was that some twisted program birds and the bees you just served me?”

“It’s a friendly warning. I’m meant to protect the Users,” Tron intoned seriously, his eyes briefly flickering over Sam who was still curled in on himself a little, that odd glint still in the programs eyes. “Even from themselves.”


	5. Don't Ride Distracted

Author's Note: Been watching way too much Scarecrow and Mrs. King the last few days. But I did not forget to write this lovely chapter for all of you! One of the more complicated chapters of this story, but I hope you all enjoy! And yes, the chemistry will keep stewing along after this one!

\-------------------------------------------------------------

The ride back to the arcade was...uncomfortable. But Sam had a niggling feeling Tron knew that. At least the situation wasn’t anymore awkward since the energy pick me up meant the security program could ride his own light cycle back to the arcade. 

On one hand, hey, new discoveries of what life on the Grid was like. On the other hand, not a lesson he expected to learn from his childhood hero. No matter how good he looked healthy, with his brown hair falling in his face and that smirk, and...dammit.

Sam also noticed that getting riled up also made him more inclined to leave the club early. Something he imagined Tron preferred with his earlier concern about loyalists ready to knife Sam at a moments notice. Sam stewed on it the entire way back. How much of that had been Tron sating Sam’s curiosity and how much had been a manipulative tactic to make Sam retreat to safer ground?

“SAM!”

It showed just how far in his own head Sam had been that it took a light disc severing the code in his front tire and Tron’s yell to knock him back to reality. 

Sam lost control of the cycle the moment the tire derezzed. Sam slammed on the breaks, that was a mistake and he knew it. The cycle gave a harsh lurch before pitching ass over end and Sam went flying over the derezzing handlebars. Had he been more focused, he could have tried to save the cycle, but the element of surprise gave Sam just enough time to brace himself for impact as he hit the ground and bounced painfully a few times like a skipping stone. It bashed him around despite his best efforts and a sharp yelp of pain accompanied his final landing spot. 

A screech of wheels too close to his ear made Sam flinch back. But looking up, he saw Tron’s back, the program’s cycle stopped lengthwise beside Sam like a shield. The security program already had his disc pulled and buzzing, his helmet snapped into place. The programs whole posture screamed ‘threat’. 

“Get on!” Tron snapped, the harsh pixelated tone through the helmet not something to be argued with. 

And when Sam immediately stood to comply, he saw why over the barrier of the light cycle. 

Six riders were baring down on them fast, the circuits of their grid suits a sickly orange. Clu loyalists. 

Sam reached back for his disc. 

“Don’t draw your disc, not yet.” Tron interrupted, never turning to address Sam directly. “Get on the cycle, lean back as far as you can to the rear and be ready to grab the controls on my word.”

It didn’t take a rocket scientist to catch on. “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me!”

“Sam, just do as I say.” Tron barked. “We are down to one light cycle and they won’t expect us to fight back at a disadvantage. You can listen to me or hesitate or we’ll both be derezzed.”

There was no other option. Sam followed orders, climbing on back and coding in handles to the rear of the cycle so he could lean back like a trick rider. Heart pounding in his ears, Sam felt his attention zeroing down to a razors edge. This could go very wrong but Tron was right about one thing, hesitation would blow it all to hell. 

Tron didn’t hesitate. 

The moment Sam was on the light cycle securely the program sped towards the oncoming loyalists. Every muscle in User’s body clenched, focusing like hell to keep Sam from getting thrown off the bike and keep him from throwing off Tron’s balance as the program steered them directly towards their opponents. 

Sam saw the surprised lift of a few helmets in their opposition, but that just made every rider pull and activate their light discs, prepping for whatever crazy scheme was about to unfold. 

Crazy was a good way to put it. Another way to put it was ‘mother fucking Tron’.   
Sam felt the tension in his chest the moment he started seeing individual details in the different circuit patterns barreling towards them. 

“Now!” Tron snapped. 

Sam let go of the light cycle’s rear end the same time Tron got a foot on the light cycles seat and pushed off it. For what felt like forever, Sam held his breath as he slid into Tron’s vacated spot at the controls. The eternity ended abruptly as his chest slammed harshly onto the low seat rest. Time sped up dangerously as Sam grabbed hold of the handlebars and brought the cycle out of a dangerous topple over and gunned the engine to keep on course for the loyalists. 

Sam looked up just in time to see Tron coming straight down at the two riders ahead of him, both light discs at the ready, and decapitated two of the programs on the downswing. Sam would have raced right into them without that move. Instead the bikes without their riders careened off and out of the way. The one on the right slammed right into another loyalists cycle and tossed the program skyward before smashing to pieces along with his cycle. 

Tron landed rough but rolled at the last second to absorb some of the shock. The security program was up and sprinting a moment later, going for one of the discarded light cycle batons as the remaining three loyalists and Sam came back around to meet in the center. 

Sam pulled his light disc free now and it was just in time as one of the incoming orange clad programs sent his own disc sailing at the front of Sam’s light cycle, trying to pull the same trick twice. Sam jerked the bike enough to the side that he deflected the offending light disc away with his own and with a whine of hydraulics, zipped to the outline of the group and sliced through the side of one light cycle and rider alike to an explosion of pixels. 

A moment later Tron cut off the other two, making both riders slam into the blue light ribbon attached to his stolen light cycle. The two riders jumped just in time and went flying, crashing abruptly to the ground in two intact piles. 

By the time Sam came around Tron was already off his bike and stalking towards the two survivor loyalists. One of said survivors was stupid enough to throw his light disc. Tron easily deflected and one throw of his own later the opposing loyalists was derezzed. The last survivor scooted back on their rear as quickly as they could but Tron caught up to them in three quick strides. Tron snatched the loyalist program by their throat with one hand, the other ready to finish the job with his light disc. 

“Wait.” Sam said suddenly as he broke down his bike and ran over to the two programs. “Tron, wait!”

As he got closer, he saw the female program in Tron’s grasp gave Sam a wide eyed look before staring in horror down at her captor. As if to confirm her suspicions, Tron let his helmet fold back into his suit, eyes hard as flint as he met her gaze. 

“You would attack the son of your creator.” Tron grit out, his hand closing more firmly around the program’s throat. “Clu is gone. There is no leader for your hate.”

“You think just because Clu is gone the hate for the Users will just disappear?” The programs voice was strained as Tron tightened his grip, her voice taking on a staticy whine as Sam saw pixelation lines forming under Tron’s fingers. 

Sam grasped the security programs bicep. “Don’t,” he caught Tron’s eyes, squeezed the programs arm. “Put her down on her feet. I need to check something. Please.” He asked as gently as he could. Something was very wrong with Tron here and it would have to be handled later. 

Thankfully though, Tron did at least let the female programs feet touch the ground. And while the pixelation band around her throat faded it was obvious Tron wasn’t letting her go anywhere, especially not when Sam moved around to unhook her identity disc. 

“What are you doing?!” She demanded, putting up enough of a fight in Tron’s grasp now that she had to be restrained more fully with a curse from the security program. He turned her, one hand still on her throat, the other pinning her arms to her chest, her back firmly held to his chest. 

“I just need to see something. I’m not gonna hurt you. I just need to see your coding,” Sam assured. 

She let out a harsh. bitter laugh. “What, so you can reprogram me? Make me a good little, User worshipping program like your champion here!” She spat over her shoulder at Tron. 

Sam jerked his hand away from activating her code, his eyes widening at her. “No. I have no plans on reprogramming anyone. But I know Clu was capturing programs from all over the Grid, free programs and turning them into soldiers for his forces against their will. Clu was the one reprogramming his own citizens.”

He saw the distrust, but he also saw her chew it over. The idea that something might be wrong was enough to give her pause at least. 

“And if you find nothing wrong with my code?” She demanded. “If I let you look and you see I hate you all on my own? What then?” 

Sam thought about that for a moment. He didn’t want to be considered anything like Clu. Which made his decisions from here on out a lot harder than expected. 

Taking a deep breath, he looked at Tron instead of the captive program. “Then we let you go.”

“What?” Tron’s voice was low and even, but his face was a confrontation all in itself. “Sam, this isn’t smart.”

The female program snorted. “I’m actually gonna agree with your pet program here. You let me go and I promise I’ll derezz you next time.”

“I’m not gonna go derezzing any program who doesn’t agree or like me,” Sam said firmly towards Tron, then looked to the loyalist. “If you plan on derezzing me later, can I at least know your name?” He asked, trying to weakly lighten the mood with a half hearted smirk. 

Her eyes, a faded opal color, sized him up distrustfully before finally offering, “Eclipse.”

Sam nodded. “Nice to meet you, Eclipse. My name is Sam Flynn. And with your permission, I’d like to make sure you’re you.”

It wasn’t a fair choice, Sam knew. If Eclipse denied Sam access, Tron would probably derezz her without asking permission. But Sam had to try. 

“Fine,” Eclipse finally said flatly. “Let’s get this over with.”

Sam let out a sigh of relief.


	6. Shut Down

Author's Note: Slightly shorter chapter but things will be ramping up quickly after this! Hope you like it! 

When Sam called up the code, it didn’t take long to see what had been done. It was like a monsters calling card the way the orange code was harshly grafted through and around Eclipses otherwise clean blue code. Unlike Tron’s, there were entire lines of completely orange code in her memory. 

False memories. 

Seeing the damage, Sam looked at the two programs in front of him. Eclipse just stared at the code, wide eyed. Her clear fronted helmet finally retracted, showing off a shock of white bobbed hair. 

“You’re a Siren,” Sam mused out loud. His mind flitted to Gem, her betrayal. Now he wondered if Gem’s code had been hijacked as well. 

Tron looked stricken. Staring at her code as well, the security program eased his hand off Eclipses throat but kept a tight hold on her otherwise. 

But the female program stayed silent, staring at the proof of Clu’s tinkering. 

“Eclipse,” Sam finally addressed her directly enough that the Siren looked directly at him, looking a little lost. “Can I fix this for you?”

It took a second before she nodded. 

Sam let himself move into a cross legged position on the ground. “Okay then. Let’s get comfortable. This is gonna take a minute.”

Tron seemed to wrestle with something internally. But after a moment and seeing how Eclipse responded, he let the Siren go. But the security program watched her tensely as Eclipse moved towards Sam and then folded to match the User’s pose. 

“You wanna hold this for me while I work?” Sam asked helpfully. 

Eclipse took it without a word and her silence was starting to really bother Sam. But he doubted it would change till he was done, so Sam focused on the work ahead. 

Only once did Sam look up. That was when he noticed the way Tron sat back on his heels directly behind Eclipse, his light disc resting on his lap. It reminded Sam of samurai imagery. But he knew what it really was. If Eclipse tried to attack Sam, Tron would make sure she didn’t succeed. 

Hostile work environment didn’t even begin to describe this. But Sam pressed on, having a slightly more careful hand in some areas because this code was completely new. He didn’t have the benefit of knowing Eclipse’s base code as he had with Tron. So he felt a grim sort of satisfaction when he flicked away the fake memories altogether. Sam didn’t even want to make a copy to see what Clu had made Eclipse believe had happened to her. Eclipse only had one memory that had been altered. This one Sam carefully unwound Clu’s code from, wanting to keep the original memory intact. 

It was then that the adrenaline finally started to leave Sam’s body. He started to feel the abuse the recent attack had inflicted on him. He fought through the ache in his ribs and limbs, pressing on. He owed it to Eclipse to finish. Thankfully her reprogramming hadn’t been as invasive as Tron’s. It wasn’t long before Sam was scattering away the last bits of corruption before closing the disc. 

Eclipse hadn’t spoken the entire time Sam had worked and it was when he saw her fingers tighten around the disc that she finally found her voice again. “What happens if I still want to kill you?” She asked seriously. 

Sam gave her a weak smile. “Then our deal still stands. You go free and you get the chance to finish me off later.”

Her opal eyes blinked at Sam in surprise. Then she reached back to dock her disc with a click and jolted as the update shot through her system. It wasn’t as extreme as Tron’s uploads. Eclipse stayed seated, her circuits flickering, but not changing color. That alone made Sam tense, he saw Tron’s body language mirror his from behind Eclipse. 

They watched Eclipse take a breath, seeming to center herself. Her expression crumpled into a brief flicker of grief but it was gone a second later as she stood in one smooth motion. A motion as smooth as a Siren. Her lights flickered then and when Eclipse was fully standing over Sam, they stilled a clear blue. 

Sam felt a wave of relief and exhaustion then, a small, careful smile flickering across Eclipse’s mouth in answer.

“I think you’ll live, Sam Flynn,” she said quietly. “I may not worship the Users, but...I don’t want to kill you. Thank you for giving me the choice.” A smirk fully lit the Siren’s face. “But now I have work to do.”

The Siren walked past Sam and leaned down to liberate the light cycle baton from his hip along the way. 

“Wait, what kind of work? Is it even safe for you to go back to the city after that?” Sam asked in confusion as he stumbled back to his feet unsteadily. “And did you steal my baton?”

Eclipse looked over her shoulder with an expression Sam could only describe as amused. “You think your work is the only thing that’s important to the Grid, User? Or that I can’t take care of myself?” It took Sam aback, but she didn’t give him time to respond. “You destroyed my ride, so I’m taking yours. I’m sure the Grid Champion will give you a lift. Especially since you barely look capable of riding on your own at the moment, Flynn.

Her opal eyes looked past Sam and the User felt more than saw Tron near his elbow. “Look after your User, Tron. He’s reckless. Thankfully it paid off this time. I’ll pay back in kind when I can.”

Eclipse turned at that point and took the few running strides she needed to activate the baton and was gone in a streak of light back towards the city. Seems she wasn’t one for goodbyes. 

“I think she was less confusing as a loyalist,” Sam mumbled. 

After that, it was like someone cut Sam’s strings. Sam's knees gave out. This wasn’t just the battle, this was the last 12 hours on the Grid catching up to Sam. Three rounds of program debugging, dragging unconscious programs around, fighting programs. Sam was not a program and the energy drink pit stop had only done so much for the User. 

Sam prepped for a fall that never came as two strong arms slid under his own and two hands locked around his chest to keep him upright. 

“I’m okay,” Sam argued, grasping Tron’s wrists as best he could to try and get his balance back. 

“No, you’re not,” Tron growled in his ear and it was the first sign that the security program was not happy. The second was a purring undertone to Tron’s voice that reminded Sam sharply of Rinzler. 

It broke through the fog filling Sam’s brain enough that he looked at the arms wrapped around him, the circuits there were blue. That was enough to let himself relax back against Tron’s chest and admit defeat.

“Can we do the whole talking thing after I get some rest?” Sam asked hopefully. 

Tron let out a scoff and tossed a baton to bring his stolen cycle into reality before steering Sam towards it without a word. Sam at least got enough power under his own feet so that he didn’t have to be dragged like a rag doll, but it was a near thing. Everything hurt and his body was reminding him just how little sleep he’d gotten before coming to the Grid this time around. 

Getting on the cycle behind Tron took a bit of maneuvering, but once gravity took hold and he was pressed along the length of the program’s back, Sam felt his muscles loosen in a delighted sense of warmth and buzzing circuit connection. Sam was far too tired to look at that too closely. He at least managed to follow direction when Tron wrapped Sam’s arms around the program's chest. 

“Sam, you need to stay awake for a little longer,” Tron urged, the anger giving way in the program’s voice to something else entirely. Sam was able to give a small nod against Tron’s back. He didn’t doubt for a second Tron wouldn’t get him back to the arcade safely. 

Two minutes into the ride, Sam’s body gave into the heady mix of warmth and safety. The faint hum of his circuits against Tron’s sending him off to sleep. 

End Note: This is not the last time we'll be seeing Eclipse


	7. Comfort

Author's Note: Late but hopefully worth the wait! Here be fluff, enjoy!!!

Waking up in the Grid was disorienting. The lack of natural ambient noise was what forced Sam to the surface of consciousness, along with the constant hum of energy that seemed to fill the air. That hum crawled between his skin and Grid suit and tingled irritably at the back of his skull which pounded painfully the moment Sam tried to open his eyes fully. 

The lights were powered low in the office above the Grid’s replica of the arcade. The couch felt familiar, even here. The cushions had a habit of trying to swallow you up and Sam debated even attempted to stand with how much his body still ached. 

He must have been out for hours. 

Hours?!

Sam shot up with a hiss, the speedy way he sat up set every muscle and nerve ending on fire. Gritting his teeth, Sam fought through it. He had to find out how long he’d been asleep, if he missed his last check in with Quorra…

That thought got derailed as Sam was suddenly forced back down on the couch cushions by a firm hand on his chest. That hand was attached to the program who’d been sitting unnoticed near Sam’s head. Tron stared down at him hard enough to keep the User in place. 

“You’ve been out for less than a milicycle, you need more rest,” Tron’s voice was flat, directive. 

Sam pushed off the hand and sat despite how much that hurt. “I need to call Quorra. She’s expecting me back at the portal,” he explained, moving to stand. But a firm hand on his shoulder brought Sam right back down on the couch beside Tron. 

Sam felt his blood boil at the treatment. “Tron, enough! I need to talk to-”

“The ISO made contact while you were resting,” Tron explained before Sam could give the program a piece of his mind. Sam eyed the program carefully and the annoyed expression Tron pulled at saying that was explanation enough on how that conversation went. “She will reopen the portal in one milicycle. She informed me if you weren’t back from the Grid by then she would derezz me herself.”

Sam let himself relax back against the couch, the sudden laugh hurt his ribs but it felt amazing to actually have a reason to laugh. 

“Did you even understand half of what she threatened you with?” Sam asked between laughs. 

Tron’s brow and nose wrinkled, “ 60% . Only because she talks like Flynn.”

Okay, that expression sent Sam into giggle territory. The security program had no business having a ‘cute’ expression. “Yeah...she uh...she makes me double take sometimes too. But it’s when she starts referencing classic books that she trips me up.”

He felt Tron watching him as the giggles petered off into a slightly pained but relaxed sigh. Feeling the oddly comforting press of Tron’s shoulder and hip against his own felt grounding. It felt good and god damn, that felt dangerous. 

The silence was good, comfortable between them and Sam felt himself start to nod off again. 

“You could have been derezzed earlier,” Tron’s voice was low, but it was the stricken sound of it that woke Sam fully, made him realize he’d slumped onto Tron’s shoulder when he’d nodded off. He was too tired to sit up straight. 

“What’da mean? You had my back, man,” Sam mumbled assurance. 

He saw Tron shake his head heavily. “Not the battle. After, when you helped the repurposed program. You were in danger.”

Sam sighed, “You were right there. I know you would have gotten her if something went wrong.”

Sam went to sit up and stop leaning on Tron, but he barely got an inch before a strong arm pulled him back to the program’s shoulder. Sam felt in the tight grip that Tron wasn’t letting him get away that easy. So the User relaxed in the program’s grip. It was clear something was really bothering Tron. 

“I could have been too late. Even that close I could have failed to react in time,” there was a crackling strain to Tron’s voice. Sam didn’t like it. 

Sam shifted, a movement Tron only allowed when it was clear Sam wasn’t trying to pull away. Obviously control issues was now on Sam’s growing list of ‘things wrong with Tron’. At least from what his father had told him in stories of the Grid, Tron had been a very independent, not clingy program. 

So Sam fed into Tron’s need for closeness and moved to wrap an arm around the program’s chest and hugged him back, his head pressed into Tron’s shoulder. “It’s fine, Tron. I’m fine. You didn’t fail, okay? I made a risky gamble, but it paid off. I helped free another program from Clu.”

Tron turned his head, pressing his face into Sam’s hair. “But how many other repurposed programs did I derezz, Sam?” The program’s voice sounded broken. 

Fuck.

It made sense now, all of it, all the odd behaviors before and during the attack. Tron had no idea if he was fighting a true enemy or an innocent anymore. And Sam had put him right in the middle of that confusion head on. 

“...I don’t know, Tron.” Lying wouldn’t help. There was really no way to know if any others in the ambush party had been like Eclipse. Tron had done what he was meant to do, protect the Users. Sam hugged Tron tighter. 

“I’ll fix this too, Tron. I’ll find out who’s repurposed, do what I did for you and Eclipse.” Purpose burned in Sam’s chest at that. Before this, fixing the the Grid had been about being closer to his father, finding and helping Tron. But this...if he could do this, maybe he’d find his own place on the Grid and be more than just a replacement for his father. 

A skeptical chuckle fanned warm breath across Sam’s scalp and the User felt a shudder go down his spine that had nothing to do with comforting the program. 

“That could take cycles, Sam.” Tron pointed out with mirthless humor in his tone. 

Sam pulled back to look at Tron, goddamn the program for being an inch taller than him, causing Sam to look up at him. This angle was...well, suggestive. But it meant he could look right at the program when he spoke. 

“Then it takes that long,” Sam said with finality. “I can find Clu’s tinkering on the other side. Find out who is really a loyalist and who’s been repurposed. Then I can let you in on the one’s I can’t help topside. You find them, I’ll come back to help fix them here on the Grid.”

Tron looked, not the greatest at that moment. There was an odd vulnerability to the normally stoic features of the Grid’s Champion. Sam watched with confusion as that expression shuddered into something flat and serious. 

“I’ll need to get you to the portal when it opens next. We can set up direct communication then,” Tron’s voice became business, his grip on Sam loosening. 

And maybe Tron wanted Sam to think that everything was fine, that this was exactly what he needed. Order, reassurance, a mission. 

Sam wasn’t buying that bullshit. 

So Sam tightened his arms around Tron and pulled a wrestler worthy move that twisted them both so they fell back on the couch facing each other with Sam’s sandwiched between the couch and Tron. 

The program blinked at the new position, Sam gave him a shit eating grin in response. “Stop acting like you’re never gonna see me again. I’ve got a whole nother milicycle before I gotta go anywhere and you haven’t slept since I rebooted you.” 

He felt Tron relax at his words. 

Aha, gotcha!

“You don’t get a User going all sweet on ya and think I was ditching, did you?” Sam teased, expected a snort and maybe a punch for the joke. He half expected Tron to give him a blank look, not understanding what he’d said at all. 

Sam wasn’t expecting the tired, slightly affectionate smile Tron gave him instead. Didn’t expect Tron to press into him, nuzzle till Sam was trapped fully between couch and program. Or the low answer of, “Maybe”, before Tron settled against him. 

Sam wasn’t gonna question it, not now, even if somewhere inside he was panicking and whooping in success all at once. Sam was confused and tired, again.

But when soft purr like snores started coming from Tron, Sam felt the sound and that now familiar buzz of where their circuits touch drag him back down to sleep with his arms wrapped protectively around the program.


End file.
